Chapter 282: The Visit of Saint Sean

Early the next morning, Orank City remained as calm as ever.

What had occurred at the White Manor was known only to a scarce few among the lower-class citizens.

A high-sequence Transcendent had intervened to block all information related to the White Manor and the White Family. Even if ordinary people passed by the ruins, they would instinctively overlook its presence.

However, in the Transcendent world and the upper echelons of Victoria’s society, this was nothing short of a cataclysmic event.

The royal family of Victoria, symbolizing supreme authority, had suffered a humiliating blow at the hands of the emerging Guild—forced into a mysterious concession. The mere idea was unthinkable to most.

Only those high nobles who knew what truly transpired that night felt a chill creep down their spines.

In this era of sleeping True Gods, aside from the seven great churches of the Orthodoxy, who else could possibly stand toe-to-toe with the one called Mister Lu in the Guild?

Everyone had begun to realize—this emerging organization called the Guild was about to stride onto the grand stage of the kingdom’s history.

Inside the Guild headquarters, Lu Yan sat beside a window, his gaze sweeping casually toward the square below.

There, dressed in civilian attire, Elizabeth Victoria was speaking with Sain and the other senior members of the Guild, engaging in discussions and learning about the Guild’s operations.

Even stripped of her regal garments and with her eyes and hair color concealed by extraordinary artifacts, Elizabeth’s ethereal aura could not be hidden.

Her strength—merely Sequence Five—was unimpressive by royal standards, but within the current Guild, she was indisputably the strongest.

With Lu Yan’s personal appointment, both Sain and the rest of the Guild’s upper echelon treated Elizabeth with great respect.

Withdrawing his gaze, Lu Yan fell into quiet contemplation.

Appointing Elizabeth Victoria—a royal princess filled with ambition—to a position as seemingly incongruous as Guild President had not been a spur-of-the-moment decision.

That move had been made the night before, when Elizabeth had calmly and coldly laid out her analysis, her every word laced with subtle desire for the supreme throne. That was when Lu Yan decided to place this piece on the board.

In that moment, he saw not just a rational princess surviving adversity—but a suitable collaborator, willing to abandon vanity and embrace “heretical” power for the sake of authority. A piece with the potential to upheave Victoria’s entire power structure.

Lu Yan knew very well—he was but a transient visitor in this enigmatic version.

His authority, his power, and the protection he could provide were all limited by time—six months.

To an ordinary person, half a year might feel like a long time. But to build a force strong enough to survive in the tempestuous Transcendent world—enough to resist the influence of the churches and support the future of the Netherworld Court—was an immense challenge.

After six months, when he inevitably left, this newborn Guild would be like a sapling suddenly stripped of the shade of a towering tree—forced to weather the storms alone.

True, Lu Yan’s terrifying display of might—slaying a demigod and wielding the Scepter of Royalty—would likely leave behind an imposing reputation. For a time, major powers would be cautious, wary of antagonizing the Guild too soon.

But reputation fades. Deterrence weakens. The only thing that could truly protect the Guild would be its own strength—and a local leader capable of wielding that strength into a shield.

He had examined his current team. Sain had shown promise, but he was just a taller blade of grass in a field of weeds. His Monster Path’s limit was low.

Even if Lu Yan expanded his path, the best Sain could reach was Sequence Six—a strong ant in the eyes of the truly powerful.

As for Anna, the young girl he had introduced to the Netherworld Sequence—her potential was immense.

But potential alone wasn’t enough. Both Lu Yan’s personally-created extraordinary path and Anna’s future ascension would require time—and resources.

Ruling out both of them, his gaze naturally turned to Elizabeth.

All considered, this princess was the most suitable candidate—for now and for the foreseeable future.

It was a typical partnership built on mutual interests and needs.

Elizabeth desired the throne, usurped by her father for over a century. She longed to unleash her ambition.

But in her current position, even with Charles stripped of succession, the inheritance laws and entrenched aristocracy made her dreams little more than castles in the sky.

She desperately needed an external force strong enough to disrupt the rules. A force powerful enough to overturn the board.

Lu Yan—wielder of the Scepter of Royalty, slayer of demigods, and man capable of influencing succession—was the biggest and most reliable backer she could hope for.

Conversely, Lu Yan and the Guild needed her just as much.

With Lu Yan’s forceful intervention, the Guild was about to complete its integration of the Orank Industrial District.

This meant more than just controlling the city’s economic artery and massive labor force. It signaled the Guild’s influence spreading like wildfire, sweeping across Victoria and even reaching neighboring kingdoms.

While not powerful on the Transcendent level, this influence was enough to sway the kingdom’s fate.

To Elizabeth, the Guild was no longer just an organization—it was her greatest political capital.

Controlling the Guild meant holding the pulse of societal change—commanding the strength of tens or hundreds of thousands of commoners. If effectively mobilized, this power could devastate any traditional force that underestimated it.

For the Guild, Elizabeth’s involvement provided shelter and a voice.

Her royal identity offered symbolic legitimacy and diplomatic buffering.

More importantly, her ambitions were now tightly bound to the Guild’s interests—ensuring she would aggressively expand its influence.

“However, all of this hinges on one thing—the Church’s stance.”

Lu Yan murmured to himself in a voice only he could hear.

Turning his head toward the office door, he spoke in a casual tone:

“Come in.”

The heavy oak door creaked open, pushed by an invisible force, making no sound—like a ghost’s silent hand.

Soft light from the hallway outlined a tall figure. A clergyman in a flawless white robe stepped into the office.

His robes shimmered with a sacred radiance, their hems embroidered with understated silver patterns—symbols of high status within the Church of the Seven.

The visitor’s face was austere, his gaze calm and profound—Saint Sean, the Church’s peak saint whom Lu Yan had once briefly worked with in the Cataclysm Version.

Sean’s steps were steady and silent. He stopped in the center of the office, and facing Lu Yan—whose presence was as vast and bottomless as an abyss—performed a standard ecclesiastical salute: right fist to left chest, followed by a slight bow.

“Mister Lu.”

Sean looked up, his voice warm and reverent, like a spring breeze that soothed the soul.

“It’s been a long time.”

The moment Sean entered the Guild building, Lu Yan had sensed it. He even noticed the faint tension beneath Sean’s calm exterior.

Lu Yan was not surprised to see an old acquaintance.

After all, in the previous version, he had interacted with dozens of saints—many from the Church of Steam.

The versions were too close together. The informational mapping was strong, especially in the unique environment of the Cataclysm Version. Sean was bound to know more than most.

Moreover, Lu Yan had revealed the projection of the Netherworld Court last night in his confrontation with the Scepter of Royalty. Sean, having seen the Netherworld Court in the Cataclysm Version, would naturally connect the dots—especially since Lu Yan hadn’t concealed his identity.

The only surprising thing was that Sean had come alone, without any powerful backup or sealed artifacts. That piqued Lu Yan’s interest.

Lu Yan nodded slightly, signaling Sean not to stand on ceremony. Leaning back in his chair with a relaxed posture, his very presence seemed to cause the room to pulse faintly.

“Saint Sean,” Lu Yan said evenly, his tone unreadable. “Speak freely.”

Sean straightened, a probing look in his eyes as he carefully chose his words.

“Mister Lu, your sudden arrival in this world, along with the display of such immense power, has greatly shaken the Church.”

He paused, watching Lu Yan’s face.

“Forgive my boldness, but the projection you revealed last night—it seemed to be from the legendary Netherworld. Does that mean you intend to spread its faith in this realm?”

Lu Yan tapped the table lightly, producing a steady, rhythmic sound.

After last night’s events, he never intended to keep the spread of the Netherworld’s faith a secret.

With the Victoria Royal Family now suppressed, even the Church of Steam would tread carefully. As long as he didn’t force the matter publicly, they would avoid direct conflict.

But Sean’s visit suggested… new opportunities.

“Yes,” Lu Yan replied frankly, as if stating a fact.

“I come at the decree of the Great Emperor.”

“This land is mired in chaos—good and evil are unclear, cause and effect lost. The Netherworld must be known.”

As he spoke, Lu Yan quietly stirred the Netherworld Court within his inner world.

Even though the Heavenly Dao of the previous world was gone, the nature of the Godrealm had not changed.

The supreme majesty of the Court spread invisibly, and even Sean, a peak Saint, felt his eyes tremble.

To Sean, the Emperor’s decree signaled that a vast and ancient pantheon had set its gaze upon this world.

Sean took a deep breath and suppressed the tremor in his heart. He moved to the next question—his true test:

“That divine presence… which recently appeared in this world—causing even the mysterious fog to shift…”

He paused again, every word heavy with significance, his eyes locked onto Lu Yan.

“Is that connected to you—and the Netherworld behind you?”

This time, Lu Yan didn’t look away. He calmly met Sean’s gaze—one filled with awe, tension, and desperate inquiry.

Lu Yan nodded slightly, as if confirming a trivial matter, and spoke a phrase that detonated in Sean’s very soul like thunder:

“The Great Emperor of Fengdu watches this world.”

As the words fell, the divine order of the Netherworld Court descended into the room. Above the spectral figures of the gods stood the aura left behind by the Second Heavenly Dao—ready to descend across versions.

“Fengdu the Great!”

Those four words shattered every last mental barrier within Sean.

His soul trembled violently. A chilling fear spread through him from the deepest recesses of his being.

Even though he had guessed it from evidence and top-secret Church intel, hearing that sacred name from Lu Yan’s own lips—along with the overpowering sense of divine suppression—left him breathless.

He felt, unmistakably, that somewhere far beyond this world… a pair of eyes, ancient and all-seeing, were gazing down through endless time and mist.

Just hearing the name triggered such terrifying resonance.

“Fengdu…”

Sean dared not say the full title aloud. In his heart, he whispered it with the utmost reverence and awe.

It matched perfectly with the divine essence their Pope had risked everything to trace with a Level Zero sealed artifact just days ago.

Now, Sean had no doubt left.

Behind the desk, Lu Yan quietly watched Sean’s transformation and withdrew the divine projection of the Netherworld Court.

Sean could perceive such majesty only because the Netherworld was close at hand—and because Lu Yan had just established dominance over the royal family.

These combined factors had led to such a severe misjudgment.

But now that Sean had confirmed that a True God was observing this realm, his demeanor shifted completely.

He bowed again—low and humble.

He no longer looked like a peak Saint serving the God of Steam and Machinery, but like a devout follower preparing to receive a new deity.

“If a True God commands that faith be spread and order established, then that divine name must be honored.”

Indeed, Sean’s behavior now reflected the true attitude of the Seven Gods Church—especially the Church of Steam.

Unlike the more rigid or conservative faiths, the Church of Steam prized pragmatism and adaptability.

With the God of Steam asleep—and another True God now casting divine attention—how could they possibly obstruct the spread of His faith?

(End of Chapter)